Harper's Young People, January 11, 1881

"Why, what is the matter, little one?" he asked, in a kindly voice.

The child looked up into the pleasant face and answered:

"They are always worrying me at home; they are always taking my things, and when I ask for them they get mad, and if I take any of their things, they come and take them away, and then if I don't like it, they tell mother; and oh! I declare it's too mean for anything. It wasn't her doll, anyway, for Cousin May left it behind, and she didn't give it to anybody, and she'd had it all day; and then she took my sun-shade, and broke the hook off, and because I asked her for it she got mad and wanted the doll, and it wasn't her doll, and then mother made me give it up, and I think it's real mean – that's just what I think it is."

"Well, well, well, that was too bad. I think it was real mean myself," said the old gentleman. "But I tell you what you should do – you should keep two bears, as I do, and then you would be happy all the time."

"Two bears?" ejaculated the little girl, opening her large round blue eyes.

"Yes, two bears. We have two bears up at my house, and they make us so happy!"

"Don't they bite?"

"Oh no, they don't bite a mite."

"But they growl, don't they?"

"Oh, no, no; they don't growl either. But if you like to come home with me, I will show them to you."

In an instant the little girl's hand was in that of the old gentleman, and they were trotting along the road side by side. There was something so kind and gentle and yet so jovial in his manner that it never entered her head to be afraid of him. After turning down one road and up another, and walking about a mile altogether, they at last came to a long low house, with large windows, which were filled with bright flowers, and draped with red curtains, and in every window hung a bird-cage with some strange or beautiful bird.

A number of children came running out of the house, crying, "Oh, papa! papa! here's papa!" as they gathered round him, clinging to his arms.

"Children," he said, "I have brought a little stranger to visit you. I do not know her name, but I am sure you will be kind to her, and show her the two bears, which I have promised she should see."

They entered a large, comfortable sitting-room, hung round with pictures and bird-cages; in the centre was a long table covered with books, and on each side of the fire-place, in a big easy-chair, sat a great rough bear; one was brown, and the other was black.

The old gentleman led the little girl up to the brown bear, and said, "Brown Bear, here is a little girl who is very miserable. I have told her that you and Black Bear have made us all so happy, and that perhaps you can help her to be happy too."

Brown Bear gave a good-humored sort of sniff, and put his big paw gently on the head of the little stranger.

"What is your name, child?" asked the gentleman: "you have not told me that yet."

"Frances Louisa Caroline Bounce, but they call me Fanny. What a nice bear! Will he be angry if I feel his fur?"

"No, indeed, not even though you rub it the wrong way."

After she was introduced to both bears, she played with the children, Carry and Sarah, George and Philip, and then they all went into another room to dinner. On their way, however, Philip, who had a long switch, with which he had been amusing himself, persisted in tickling the back of his sister Sarah's ear with it, until she grew out of patience, and, turning round, told him, rather sharply, to stop; but Philip, who was only in fun, seemed somewhat nettled at being scolded, and was just on the point of repeating the offense, when Black Bear, who was walking behind, put his paw gently on his shoulder, while at the same moment Brown Bear took Sarah by the arm and led her into the dining-room. Philip threw away his switch, both burst into a merry laugh, and sat down to the table with smiling faces. During the dinner both bears kept walking round the table, looking so kind and gentle that they seemed to put every one in good-humor. When Carry upset a tumbler of water over Sarah's frock, Brown Bear immediately picked it up, while Carry begged pardon, and Sarah laughed. When George was going to tell some little tale out of school about Philip, Black Bear put his big paw in front of his mouth, and George stopped at once.

After dinner they all went out into the snow to have some coasting down a hill close to the house. Both the boys had sleds, but Philip's was a bright new one, while George's was old and rather clumsy. Philip had been saving up his money for some time to buy this treasure, and was very proud of it; therefore when George seized his new sled and ran off with it, he called after him with some anger to bring it back, and not to use it; but George had reached the top of the hill, and had just planted the sled, ready to start down hill, when Brown Bear came to the side of the angry Philip, and touched him with his paw. Phil's manner and voice changed at once, as he called out, "Well, brother George, you can use my sled, and I'll use yours." But Black Bear had reached the top of the hill nearly as soon as George, and with his great big paw patted him on the back, and grunted something in his ear. George took up the sled very quietly, and carried it back to his brother, saying, "I am sorry, Phil; here is your sled."

After that all was fun, tumbles, and laughter, the two bears joining in it as actively and enjoying it just as much as the children. In fact, the bears seemed to make the whole party happy. At last it became time for Frances Louisa Caroline Bounce to go home. She felt sad at the thought of leaving the bears, and of going to her own home, where there were no bears at all.

"Well," said the old gentleman, "how do you like our bears, Fanny?"

"Oh, I think they are just too splendid for anything. I wish we had a bear, even if it was only a little one."

"Well, you can easily have bears. All children can have them if they like. Perhaps you would be obliged to begin with young ones; but then they would be sure to grow up if you only took care of them."

"Oh, dear, dear! is that really so?" cried Fanny, in an ecstasy.

"Yes, my child, it is really so; every one can have two bears in his or her house, like mine. But do you know what we call those bears which make us all so happy? Bear and Forbear."

"Bear and Forbear!" echoed Fanny. "Oh, I will try to get two of those bears in our house, and if they are ever so weak and sickly, I will feed them and nurse them till they grow big and strong like yours."

Fanny trotted home with the old gentleman, and told her brothers and sisters everything about the two good-natured bears; and they all agreed that they would try to raise a pair like them.

I am happy to add that Fanny and her family have a pair of very promising young bears, which already afford them a great deal of happiness, and bid fair in the future to be fine healthy animals.

    New York City.

I am making a steam-engine according to the directions given in Young People No. 49. I have just soldered on the lid, and have made the hole for the water to be let into the engine. I hope to finish it soon. I am eight years old. I go to school, and I like Young People very much. I like to read the letters from the children, so I thought I would send one, and thank the "Professor" for writing about the steam-engine.

    John A. J.

    Cresco, Iowa.

I have just commenced taking Young People, and we all like it very much. The story of "Paul Grayson" was splendid, but I think "Toby Tyler" is the best of all. My brother Charlie and I each have an Indian pony. Charlie's pony has been trained by the Indians to stand wherever you leave her, without being tied. And if any one is riding her and falls off, no matter how fast she is going, she will stop, and not move one step farther until her rider mounts again. My pony throws me over her head sometimes, but she will not stop until she gets to the barn.

    Allie C.

    Nacoochee, Georgia.

I send an experiment for the chemistry club. To make cyanogen gas the apparatus necessary is this: one test-tube, a cork, six inches of glass tube one-quarter of an inch in diameter, an alcohol lamp, and a round file. Now hold the glass tube over the flame of the lamp until the glass is soft, when by pulling it apart you will have two tubes, with one end of each drawn to a fine point. Break off the point of one, and you will have a tiny jet. Make a hole in the cork just large enough for the large end of the tube to go into. Put into the test-tube as much cyanide of mercury as will lie on the point of a penknife. Fit the cork tightly in the test-tube. Wave the test-tube over the flame of the lamp for five or ten minutes, and then apply a lighted match to the jet, when the gas will burn with a bluish flame. Pour some melted tallow or bees-wax over the cork to keep the gas from escaping before reaching the jet.

    John R. G.

    Nashville, Tennessee.

I read the letters in the Post-office Box with so much pleasure! I have every number of Young People. All my young friends that read it like it very much. We have formed a juvenile club, and I am president. Reading Young People is a part of our programme.

    Randolph H.

    San Francisco, California.

I thought I would write and tell you about our club. It is called the "Silver Crescent Dramatic Club." We were going to call it "Golden Crescent," but when the club gets a little richer it is going to buy some medals for each member to wear; they will be the shape of a crescent, and if they had to be of gold, they would cost more than silver ones. We meet once every week, and make by-laws and suggestions, and vote on them, and we rehearse. We also have a monthly paper; it is called "The Monthly Crescent." Of course it is not printed, and we have only one copy. Each member edits it in turn, and the others send in contributions. Everything has to be original. The paper is read at every fourth meeting.

We charge five cents to join the club, and every two months each member has to pay five cents dues. New members are voted for, and the majority rules. We have five officers – a president, vice-president, treasurer, secretary, and stage-manager. I am the secretary.

We prepared a grand entertainment for the Christmas holidays. It was a tragedy in three acts. I arranged it. In the first part of Little Women, by Miss Alcott, they had a play called the "Witch's Curse." Only the plot was given. I took it and made up the dialogue, added some more characters, and changed it to make it turn out differently. It makes a very nice little play.

    Ida B. D.

    Argenta, Illinois.

I am a little girl ten years old. I think Young People is a very nice paper. My sister and I go to school. We have a very nice teacher. I like to go very much. We study pieces from Young People to speak in school. My teacher says all little boys and girls ought to take it.

    Minnie S.